Real Assassins don't Faint
by chatnoir1
Summary: The Avengers discover one of Clint's secret fears, share a few of their own, and learn that Loki plays paintball


A.N. I know, it's been a while since I posted new fic, but my muse seems to be waking up, so here is a one-shot. As usual, all characters belong to Marvel. There is a slight spoiler for season 2 of 'The Walking Dead'.

0000000000000

Tony walked into the living room of the Avengers madhouse and found Loki sitting on the sofa, a Quizno's Black Angus Beef sub in one hand, a bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. Clint appeared to be passed out on the floor. Loki glanced over at Tony and then returned his attention to the television, and the show 'Supernatural'.

"There is a character on this show that calls himself The Trickster and Loki, but who is actually the archangel Gabriel. I find that rather curious, that an archangel would assume my identity. He's not as good looking nor as tall as myself, but he is good at random acts of chaos and mischief. He also seems to be upholding my title as 'The Whore of the Nine Realms'." Loki took a bite of his, or rather Clint's, sub.

"Why is Clint passed out on the floor?"

Loki shrugged. "I found him this way. He appears to be breathing. There is no room in the refrigerator and I couldn't, in good conscience, let the sandwich languish here for what might be hours. I have no idea what is wrong with Agent Barton, nor do I care. However, another of your little club might happen upon the sandwich later, claim it, and become ill. You humans are so fragile. So I'm actually doing a public service."

"Yeah. You're a regular Mother Teresa." Tony prodded Clint with his toe and got no response. "You know, you're lucky I'm the one who walked in. Natasha would take one look at Comatose Clint here and shoot you. Probably multiple times. All that blood wouldn't be good for my leather sofa. I wish you wouldn't have your dramas at my place is all I'm saying here. They can get messy."

"I had no idea you felt that way, Stark. I shall, of course, take your concerns under advisement."

A moan came from the floor and Clint sat up rather unsteadily, cradling his head in his hands. He looked, as they say, a bit green about the gills.

"It lives."

Loki snorted. "Well, it makes noises anyway. There are undead things that make noises, you know. Zombies, for instance."

Clint moaned again. "Please, no zombies. The last thing I remember, I was watching 'The Walking Dead'. Daryl did this, I don't know what you'd call it, he opened up a zombie's stomach and started pulling shit out of it, so he and Rick could see if the zombie had eaten Sophia. It was horrible."

"Let me make sure I understand this. You, a world class assassin, fainted at the sight of a fake zombie dissection on a television program?" Loki began to chuckle.

"No. Maybe. It could be my blood sugar is low. I was gonna eat that sandwich. How is it?"

"Not bad." Loki shrugged.

Tony gave Clint a glass of water. "For someone whose sandwich has been Loki'd, you're being kind of calm. Me, I'd be calling my suit so I could blast Loki's ass. And by the way, just so you know, this whole fainting over zombies thing is going on Twitter."

"Asshole."

"I've already posted it to Tumblr and Facebook." Loki took a swig of the beer and made a face. "I really need to do something about the beer in this realm. I was made to drink dwarf piss once - don't ask - it tasted better than this waste of hops and yeast."

"That sounds like a good idea. Why don't you go work on it someplace that isn't here."

"If you want me to leave, then ask, Stark."

"O.K., I'll bite. This is me asking you to leave."

"And my response is no."

"Of course." Tony nodded his head and went to the bar and poured a more than generous scotch for himself. "I don't know why I bothered. The alcohol content in my blood must be too low. I'll have to do something about that."

Natasha Romanoff entered, followed by Steve Rogers. She raised one elegantly tweezed eyebrow. "Why are you on the floor, Clint?"

"Our fearless feathered assassin fainted - it seems he has a problem with zombies."

"Zombies?" Natasha dropped into one of the chairs. "Oh yeah, right. Never let him watch 'The Walking Dead' alone or take him anywhere there are mimes. Mimes freak him out."

"Mimes freak ME out." Tony refreshed his scotch. "And clowns. I don't like clowns. And it just occured to me that I shouldn't have said that - I'll probably wake up surrounded by clowns and mimes, right Loki?"

"I'll see what I can do to accomodate you." Loki popped the last bit of the sub into his mouth. "Now, I need to take my leave and don't look smug Stark, it has nothing to do with your request. I'm playing paintball with Victor and some other rather unsavoury characters. I can only hope that Victor doesn't do that tiresome thing where he keeps referring to himself in the third person. Doom says this and Doom says that. Honestly." Loki vanished.

"Anyone else see the weirdness with this or am I the only one. Think about it, a bunch of supervillians wearing those neoprene chest protectors, masks and kneepads, running around shooting little balls of paint at each other."

"No weirder than anything else in our lives. We had a Norse God sitting on the sofa, eating Quizno's and watching 'Supernatural'. Not exactly normal." Clint got up off the floor and took Loki's vacated spot.

Steve, who had gone to the kitchen, came back in, a hot pastrami sandwich in one hand, a Dr. Pepper in the other. He took the vacant chair. "What are you afraid of, Tony, apart from mimes and clowns?"

"Pepper. Well, not all the time, just when she finds out I've been living on pizza and scotch for a few days."

"Just a few days?" Natasha repeated her elegant eyebrow raise of earlier.

"Well, for a week. Or two. O.K. just the one time, it was a month." Tony shrugged. "I've got science and things to do you know. Important shit."

"I wonder what Loki is afraid of?"

"Frigga. I asked Thor. I'm collaborating with this guy in Japan on a Friggabot. It's gonna be awesome."

The other three Avengers in the room nodded in agreement.

"Well, Bruce is in Switzerland doing the CERN Hadron Supercollider thing, so we can't ask him and we all know that if Natasha told us what she's afraid of, she'd have to kill us. So what about you Steve?"

"Palmetto bugs. Those big roaches. They're practically indestructible and I know they fly at my head on purpose when I'm trying to swat them. They have all those legs and they get tangled in your hair and it's just creeps me out."

"Do you scream like a girl?"

"No Stark, I don't scream like a girl."

"Why don't I believe you? Not important. I'm going down to my lab and do stuff."

No one could see Loki, as he rubbed his hands together in malicious glee. Then he was off to play paintball.

After Tony's departure, Natasha and Clint went to the gym to spar and Steve spent the evening with a 'Toy Story' marathon.

Much later that night, hysterical girlish screams were heard as Steve awakened to find a giant cockroach in bed with him and Tony awoke to find himself sharing a bed with Pennywise the Clown from Stephen King's 'It'. Beneath it all could be heard Loki's laughter.


End file.
